


All Roads Out Of Hell Lead Home

by marvelllous (yayhwan)



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 18:52:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4232925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yayhwan/pseuds/marvelllous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you're going through hell, keep going. That was Bucky's motto when he survived the fall down from that train. Whatever happened after was even worse, but all roads out of hell lead home, even if he doesn't always remember where home is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Roads Out Of Hell Lead Home

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really have a bèta yet. So if you spot any mistakes, just inform me and I'll try to improve it! Hope you guys enjoy :)
> 
> This was supposed to be a multi-chapter thing, but apparently I'm incapable of writing that. So...

He was falling. Oh god, he was plummeting to his death. His scream was echoed by the snow-covered mountains around him. His arms still stretched out to Steve above him. Steve, who hadn’t managed to reach him before the metal bar broke off. On his way down, he hit something. The pain and nausea that followed – along with the heart-stopping fear that he was going to die as soon as he hit the ground – made Bucky pass out.

The soldier woke up in the snow. His body was folded in an unnatural position. Every inch of him was hurting and it was cold. God, was it cold. He remembered lying there, shivering heavily, surrounded by snow. Yes, he remembered the cold all too well. And he remembered not wanting to remember anything except him: Steve. That blond punk from Brooklyn was probably the most important person in his life. Taking care of him during winters was something he didn’t even mind doing. Steve obviously hated being sick, but Bucky honestly didn’t care. He loved Steve. The guy was his best friend in the whole world. He’d do anything for Steve.

But it was still cold and he was still trembling. Bucky’s clothes were torn and his head was pounding. It was hard to keep his eyes open, but he had to hold on. He had to hold on for Steve. They wouldn’t just leave him here. They’d look for him. They’d find him. He would be okay, if he just held on. Right?

Warm blood was mingling with the snow, staining the white with its clear red colour.  He was in so much pain, although his left arm felt numb. Which was weird. Bucky wasn’t able to see the arm, his sight blurry. It felt like every part of his body was bleeding. There was so much blood. Bucky was tired. He wished he could just die right now. Dying sounded like a very good option.

As his eyes fluttered closed, he thought of Steve again. Steve, who he hadn’t meant to leave behind. Oh god, how was Steve going to survive without him? Reckless Steve. He’d get himself killed within a week. Fuck. Bucky had to get back to Steve. He had to—

 _A broad grin spread across Bucky’s lips as he watched Steve at_  
_the station. Damn, he looked good. New clothes, still too large_  
_on the blond’s small frame._  
_“Steve!” He called, opening his arms for his very best friend._  
_He saw Steve look for him in the crowd before their gazes locked._  
_The smile that crossed Steve’s lips was perfect. The skinny guy_  
_jogged over to him and Bucky chuckled when Steve was a little_  
_breathless by the time he got to him._  
_Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and drew him in_  
_closer, hoping to God that no one would think this was all too_  
_weird. “Hey, Stevie.”_  
_Steve’s fingers threaded through his hair and he pressed a bit_  
_closer before having to pull away again. “Let’s go home, Buck.”_

Bucky surfaced, staring at the clouds as snow fell down from the sky. The snowflakes mingled with his tears, the dirt, the blood on his clothes and the snow. He tried to move, but it felt like every bone in his body was broken. It hurt. He was hurting. How long had he been lying here already? Wasn’t Steve coming for him? Where were the Howling Commandos?

The Howling Commandos. They’d make sure Steve wouldn’t get himself in too much trouble. Yes. They’d protect that stupid punk from doing idiotic, reckless things that’d get him killed. Good. That was good. Steve was safe. Steve would be fine.

A frown creased his forehead as he tasted blood. Was his lip bleeding? Or had the bleeding from his ear dripped across his cheek to end up on his lips. Either way, the salty, sort of metallic taste of his blood made him worry about his own well-being too, instead of just Steve’s. He was going to die here, wasn’t he?

 _“S- sorry…” Steve stammered as he curled up in Bucky’s arms_  
_a little more. “I just— I didn’t think she’d die… she’s my ma,_  
_Bucky…”_  
_“I know, Stevie, I know…” He said, rocking Steve back and forth_  
_softly. They were sitting on Steve’s bed, because Bucky had been_  
_spending more and more nights at Steve’s. They had basically_  
_moved in together by now. “You’re going to be okay, though. You’re_  
_the strongest person I know.”_  
_Steve huffed out a laugh: “Me? Are you kidding?”_  
_Bucky smiled and shook his head, “No, no. I’m serious, Steve. You_  
_make me smile, even if I feel like it’s not worth to smile anymore.”_  
_“Your smile is amazing.” Steve complimented, grinning down to_  
_Bucky, a sparkle in his eyes that Bucky had missed._  
_“As is yours.” Bucky mumbled, gently tucking Steve in a tighter hug,_  
_“I’m with you ‘til the end of the line...”_

Did he just hear something? A car? Had they come to get him? Was he going to make it? Bucky heard voices, but couldn’t make out what was being said. People grabbed a hold of his legs. A tight hold. What was going on? Who were these people?

Bucky was slipping in and out of consciousness as he was dragged through the snow, leaving a trail of blood behind. They reached some sort of truck and he was lifted into it. He was covered in some blankets.

Bucky couldn’t make out the faces of the people around him.

“Steve? ‘s that you?” His voice was barely a whisper. He was so, so tired. Bucky’s eyelids were too heavy, he couldn’t keep them open. At least he was warmer now. At least he wasn’t going to die alone. He just hoped that he’d see Steve again.

Soon.


End file.
